


A Chance at Redemption

by MBlair



Series: What If? [4]
Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Family Drama, Prologue only: canon typical violence, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26619601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MBlair/pseuds/MBlair
Summary: James Norrington always knew he would die for Elizabeth Swann...A canon-divergent tale of lovers separated by the high seas, a ship full of pirates, and society of the eighteenth century.
Relationships: James Norrington/Elizabeth Swann
Series: What If? [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925296
Comments: 48
Kudos: 47





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Dark_Becomes_You](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Dark_Becomes_You/gifts).



> So...this is happening. My first long fic for this fandom and ship, which has actually been planned and researched almost since the beginning. I'm not at all promising a regular posting schedule (nor am I promising complete historical accuracy), it may be days, weeks, months between updates, but I am really hoping to be consistent and keep this story going for as long as possible. 
> 
> Also, keep watch on my Tumblr (maggzblair) for posts about my research, character profiles, as well as all the other random stuff I post on a daily basis.
> 
> A special thank you for apirateslifeforme123 and snowbryneich for the idea that created this story!

James Norrington always knew he would willingly die for Elizabeth Swann.

It was a thought that had come into his mind and stayed there as persistent as his most cherished memory, as warm and true as it had been to hold her securely in his arms just hours before on the decks of a ship full of damned pirates and navy men alike. It had been a relief to see her safe, even in the company of pirates, though he knew she likely wouldn’t have been anywhere else.

The night had been as warm as one could be in the middle of a Caribbean summer, but her dismissal had froze his heart to the core. She pushed him away to back toward the pirates she called allies and friends, the ones she believed in and fought for even when he knew deep in his heart that they wouldn’t do the same for her.

_ Whose side are you really on, Elizabeth? Whose side am I on? Have we chosen the right ones? _

“Elizabeth, please… Allow me one moment of your time. Alone,” he said as he approached the cell where she and her crew were secured.

“Anything you need to say to me, you can say in front of my crew, Admiral,” she replied, her voice carrying the same dismissal as her actions did before. She truly did not understand what he was trying to do, what he was willing to do to save her.

The keys in his hand clanged together as he unlocked the cell, allowing her crew to come rushing out beside him, leaving them behind to find a way back to their ship. It seemed the pirates didn’t mind leaving their Captain alone, so it had been Elizabeth who had tried to resist him.

She stood, almost cemented to the spot, as she stared at him. “James, what are you doing?”

Taking her hand, James led her from the cell as her feet finally moved with her. “I’m getting you off this damned ship,” he replied. Damned in more ways than one. 

It didn’t take long for them to reach the stern of the ship, the line connecting them to the other from which they would make their escape. Making a motion to the men, they began to make their crossing, each hopping on and scurrying across with the dexterity of rats jumping from a sinking ship and into the sea.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” she said as the last of her crew vanished into the fog, leaving only the two of them behind. “James, what should I know?”

“I made a promise, far too long ago,” he said, voice firm as he willed her to understand. He wouldn’t let another moment go by without her being safe again, even if it was without him. “I know I’ve broken it before, but I’m not going to now. I need to keep you safe and that means getting you as far away from here as possible. I couldn’t protect your father, but I will keep my promise for you. I will keep you safe, no matter the cost.”

She stood and stared at him, just as rebellious and stubborn as ever. He hoped that one day she would understand.

“I love you, Elizabeth… I wish I could come with you,” he whispered to her, pressing soft kisses into her hair that even after so much time still reminded him of sunlight and burnished gold. She truly was his treasure, the woman he would always cherish most.

“You can. Run away with me.”

One last kiss, sweet as the first with the taste of bitterness. After this, he would never see her again.

“Run, Elizabeth. Run away and don’t look back,” he said, nearly pushing her toward the rope connecting the two ships. Her crew was nearly halfway across by this point, perhaps not close enough to see their Captain kissing a doomed Admiral, but he couldn’t find anything in him to care. Their time was up. 

As she climbed onto the rope and began her journey to the other side, James knew he had accomplished what he was meant to. To protect Elizabeth and see her happy, even if it wasn’t with him.

“All hands, prisoner escape!”

James turned, spotting the man who made the call out to his crew, signaling his betrayal for all to hear. The man they called Bootstrap, Bill Turner.

Of  _ course _ the man who would seek to keep James from protecting Elizabeth would be a Turner. James was nothing if not entirely aware of the irony. They would always be his ruin. 

“Belay that,” James replied, lifting his pistol and firing a shot into the rope without a moment’s hesitation, sending the remaining crew, as well as Elizabeth, plummeting down into the sea. If she wasn’t proven to be a strong swimmer, James having watched her more times than he could count sneaking out at all hours to swim in the ocean or playing on the beach as he would come home from patrols, a young adventurous girl growing into a woman he loved more than life itself, he would worry for her. But she wasn't. She would make it back to her ship and crew.

James turned to look down at the ocean, seeing the slight reflection of gold bobbing in the water. It was in that single moment of distraction, of knowing she was safe that everything turned to red. “Part of the crew, part of the ship. Part of the crew, part of the ship,” he repeated as he approached James, holding a sword in his shaking hand. It soon was buried in his back, spearing him through like a roast going on the fire, everything within him that would scream to fight back fading away. The voices of the rest of the crew began to build as he was surrounded by pirates slowly being consumed by the sea and the creatures within. 

He opened his eyes at the heaviest footsteps, seeing the monstrous figure of Davy Jones himself standing over his slowly dying body. 

“James Norrington…do you fear death?”

A stab through the chest, leaving nothing behind. No blood. Nothing that would speak of humanity. Only death.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

His eyes closed for what he knew would be the final time, finding himself strangely at peace as the blood began to pool beneath him.

James Norrington always knew he would die for Elizabeth Swann.

He just wished it wasn’t alone. 


	2. Life and Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weeks pass since that fateful night on the Flying Dutchman, but James Norrington's journey isn't over yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the lovely, wonderful ladies of the Norribeth discord for all their amazing inspiration, encouragement, and friendship. Love you all. <3 <3 <3 
> 
> Chapter one is here! Our story is finally beginning! Please enjoy and don't forget to leave your thoughts at the end!

The letters came rarely, but consistently, remembrances of a life the writer believed done. She had watched him die after all, stabbed through with the broadsword of a pirate, leaving him to bleed on the decks of the Flying Dutchman as she made her escape. Luckily for James Norrington, however, this was not yet the end.

Not that Elizabeth Swann knew that.

The first letter came just days after James arrived home, wounded and suffering despite the care of the ship’s physician and the best the Royal Navy could spare on his journey back to the country manor where he grew up. Though he would survive and perhaps even see the sea again if he wished, it would be a long while before that happy day occurred. When the letter arrived however, it became clear to both Norrington women just how dire the situation had been, as well as how uncertain his survival.

_Miss Mary Norrington_

_Bitternut Lodge_

_Derbyshire, Great Britain_

_17 July 1729_

_My dearest Mary,_

_I wish that I had the occasion to write to you under far better circumstances, for this is one that I never wanted to share. You will soon be informed, if you have not already, that your brother James was killed in action while on assignment in the Caribbean. He died saving my life and there is not a way that I will ever be able to repay his bravery and constant kindness toward me._

_I am well aware of my place as the woman who spurned his considerable and ardent affection far too many times to be forgiven for such actions, but I do hope you know that I loved James as much as I was able, as a dear friend, a brother, and far too late as something more akin to how he felt for me. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive my conduct as I hope James had at the end._

_May the Lord watch over and keep you and your mother in blessed comfort._

_Yours,_

_Elizabeth_

Mary put the letter aside as she looked to her brother again, resting but without the peacefulness that would have been expected. He was back at home in England, safe and comfortable, but something about him spoke of longing and a task unfinished. Like he had left something or perhaps someone behind. Could there still be something there with Elizabeth that he may be hoping for? Leaning down, she kissed his forehead gently, an action she doubted James would have allowed while awake, but powerless to stop otherwise. 

As affectionate an elder brother he had been for her entire life, from the countless letters he wrote her, even before she knew how to read them, to the gentle smiles and countless days spent playing and encouraging her to be the best woman she could be, he largely seemed to deny the same from anyone else. She thought perhaps, in her younger years, that it was his natural way. But later, once she discovered through stories and her own limited experiences, it was her own father’s coldness and mistreatment that turned her beloved brother from an open and loving man, to closed off and quiet. Seemingly afraid of what showing emotion would do. While she was grateful to have him home, especially after so many years too far away, she would have rather seen him happy… Especially with the girl who so mournfully wrote to her of her brother’s death.

Pressing one last small kiss to her brother’s still furrowed brow, she pulled away and moved to the writing stand in her own bed-chamber to draft a reply. 

_Dearest Elizabeth…_

Mary stopped and set down her quill, careful not to let any ink drop onto the page. What would she say to Elizabeth? Would she tell her that her brother was still alive? Though her brain said one thing, that James would perhaps not want her to know...or perhaps want to tell her himself, her heart couldn’t allow herself to leave a dear friend in pain. Especially if Elizabeth truly felt it all in the same way her words expressed. 

_Miss Elizabeth Swann_

_Government House_

_Port Royal, Jamaica_

_3 August 1729_

_Dearest Elizabeth,_

_I hope this letter finds you in good health and in a position for a place to accept and believe the news I have to tell you. It is my pleasure to tell you that my brother James is alive and recovering at home, despite what you believe to have witnessed some weeks ago. I can only imagine what you had witnessed, how the sea and whatever horrors I’m sure you faced may have been carved into your memory, but I am grateful to tell you that it is not the case._

_In a hope that I have heard your intentions and feelings correctly, I must ask you to come to us. Mother and I will be happy to have you, and if my hopes and observations of James are as well, I believe he would feel the same. I not only ask you this as a friend but perhaps even as a sister._

_Don’t stay away, Elizabeth. Come back to England. Come home._

_Affectionately yours,_

_Mary_

  
  
  
  


As Mary left to post the letter, seeing it safely sent off to Jamaica where she hoped her dear friend would receive it, she didn’t notice the smallest piece of parchment fall from the letter she had fall to the floor. The smallest postscript that would prove to be vitally important. 

_Mary, if you would ever find it in your heart to send a reply, please post it to Mr. Talbot of the King’s Crown pub in London. He will see it safety delivered to me. - Elizabeth_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are still being moderated.


	3. Lost, but Not Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While James recovers at home with family, Elizabeth remembers and comes to a sharp realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all the lovely ladies of the Norribeth discord, this is for you. Thank you Bea-Sim, Elle, Karo, Katy, Sarah, and Victoria. <3
> 
> Prepare the tissues.

_ Meanwhile... _

_ “You’ve always had my heart, Elizabeth... Since the day I met you,” _ the voice of a ghost said in her head as Elizabeth walked the beach of Shipwreck Cove alone. It had been mere days since she had said goodbye to Will, her first true friend, her pirate lover, as he embarked on his new journey as captain of the Flying Dutchman. Her return had been unexpected, at least to all the Pirates who watched as she left with him, but not at all unwelcome. It was here that she knew she would be welcomed, Pirate King or not. The last bit of civilization that would accept her for who she was now, not the vision of the woman she could have been.

_ “It’s always been yours,”  _ the memory continued in her head, bringing her back to a similar beach but under the light of a sunset instead of midday. The wind blowing through the palms that were the only other life visible on the tiny island apart from them. Sitting just a few feet away was a chest, the very same that contained his still-beating heart.  _ “Will you keep it safe for me?” _

_ “Will,” _ she started, looking from the chest back into his eyes again. He had to know what he was asking of her, to chain her to this place forever. To be his protector while he left for years at a time, only coming home to her for one day. What kind of life would that leave her? What kind of man would abandon the woman he loved, especially without the vows of marriage to bind them? Another cage, but this one of their own making. There would be no propriety, no societal convention to blame. _ “You must know what you are asking of me. Ten years at sea for one day together... A handful of days for a lifetime of waiting, if we’re lucky.” _

His face began to fall when he realized what she was saying. After all of this, all they had been through together, this was the limit of what Elizabeth Swann was able to bear. Not another loss. Not another day alone with no one to love and be loved by in return. Not one day of being locked in a cage, even by someone she loved. _ “I’ll always love you. I always have, but I can’t stay... If you love me, you won’t ask that of me.” _

As she reached the cliffs that surrounded and shielded the pirate stronghold from the rest of the world, Elizabeth turned back toward the sea, looking toward home. Or what home  _ used _ to be. The home that had brought her so much joy as well as pain, that had brought Will and James both into her life, friends, and inevitably fiances who both loved her far more than she deserved. As if her subconscious was trying to tell her something, her fingers ran over her other hand, where a wedding ring should have been sitting, forever binding her to a man bound to the sea. Perhaps it was better this way, giving Will up so he could give everything he had to his new purpose, but it didn’t mean that she missed him any less. It was just another on her list of regrets, another one who loved her hurt. 

All because she put herself first. 

The dream of every freeborn person. The fantasy of every woman. 

As her mind wandered again, thinking back on days and years past, she walked the slow trek back to the colony that was still assembled and thriving within the pirate stronghold. It brought her back to the days before she lived the pirate life, walking on a white sand beach with the other man who had given her his heart, though not quite as literally. 

It was the morning after her eighteenth birthday, the sun rising over the white sands and blue water of the island she had called home for years now. Sometimes in quiet moments, she still imagined waking again at their home in England, seeing the sunshine peek through the smoke from distant factories and the chimneys of the homes surrounding them. The life of the city so different than in this island colony that grew more and more every year. It never took long for the longing for home, the cold and dreary country across the ocean, to fade, leaving only a love for the tiny little spat of land in the middle of the Caribbean where everyone she loved was within arms reach. 

One of the many people who made Port Royal feel more like home occasionally accompanied her on these sunrise walks, keeping in step with her as they explored the quiet beaches as the red and orange sky eventually gave way to blue. It was clear to her now that he loved her even then, when she was young and flighty and still dreaming of pirates and adventure. That somehow, someway, she had captured his heart without even realizing. 

_ “Good morning, Captain,” _ she said as she found him standing near the docks, surely not waiting for her to appear but seeming to be glad that she had. 

_ “Good morning, Miss Swann,” _ he replied, taking the hand she offered him and bringing it to his lips for a kiss. It seemed innocent enough at the time, proper even for a man and woman of their station, but perhaps it was his eyes...the way he  _ looked _ at her as he pulled away and offered her his arm so they could walk together.  _ “You’re up and about far earlier than I expected, given the … festivities last night.” _

_ “I’ve never been particularly one for excessive drinking, especially after the behavior of some of the gentlemen last night,” _ she replied with a small smirk, thinking of a few that would seek her father’s favor for her hand but instead seem to have ruined their chances. Not that there was a man that would have been good enough for her beside James in her father’s eyes. Not that Elizabeth truly understood that until it was far too late.  _ “I noticed you were absent though… I hope everything was alright.”  _

_ “Yes, everything was fine. I, unfortunately, had to be on duty, otherwise, I would have offered at least a dance. I hope you would have accepted.” _

_ “Have I ever declined,” _ she replied with a cheeky smile, one that brought out a small one of his own. 

The walk continued on in simple, companionable silence, neither needing to fill the time with mindless drabble like would be expected with so many others. It was only until they had begun their walk back to the docks, a considerable distance along the smooth, white sand, that one of them bothered to break it. 

_ “Your father mentioned you would be returning to London for the season, to visit your aunt and uncle,” _ James said, his feelings on the subject clear on his face for a split second before the mask of a military commander fell again on his face, shielding anything else he might have been feeling. 

Elizabeth’s face, however, showed her displeasure at the idea of returning to London. Despite her occasional longing for England, she never particularly wanted to  _ return _ there for a lengthy amount of time.  _ “Yes, I believe it may one last effort from my father to find a husband. It seems that I am not the only one keenly aware of my age as well as my prospects.” _

_ “I only hope that you find a man who will love you as you deserve. There isn’t a man on this planet that wouldn’t be lucky to have you, Elizabeth,” _ James said, stopping and looking her dead in the eyes. A moment passed between them before he turned back toward the Fort still ahead.  _ “Miss Swann.”  _

_ “Haven’t we moved past that by now, James? I would like to think we were...friends.” _

The smile that lit his face was a rare one that Elizabeth wished she could see more, the way his eyes lit up and made him seem even younger than his twenty-six years. 

_ “Yes, Elizabeth. I would very much like to think we are friends.”  _

  
  


By the time Elizabeth returned to the pirate city, she felt drained in a way she never had before. It was easy to be brave and face everything she had when it was happening, but in the quiet moments, she found herself floundering in the face of the future. What would she do now, with no one she loved at her back, ready to catch her if she fell? 

She was alone. 


	4. A Long Lost Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when Elizabeth thinks she's truly alone in the world again, a friend returns to prove her wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...yeah, this delay was rough, but we're back! I hope you all enjoy this chapter and stay tuned for chapter five in the future!

_ By the time Elizabeth returned to the pirate city, she felt drained in a way she never had before. It was easy to be brave and face everything she had when it was happening, but in the quiet moments, she found herself floundering in the face of the future. What would she do now, with no one she loved at her back, ready to catch her if she fell?  _

_ She was alone. _

It wasn’t until she reached the docks that Elizabeth realized that the supply ships had returned from nearby ports, privateers from Europe, India, and Asia alike bringing food, weapons, and luxury goods that would be difficult to find even in their homelands. As she passed the emptying ships, each pirate giving a bow or small curtsey in reverence to their Pirate King, a courtesy that Elizabeth didn’t think she would ever grow entirely used to. Once she made it through the throng of pirates and privateers, dodging heavy crates and trunks as she went, there was one very familiar man tying up a boat at the end of the harbor. 

“Well, well, well… Look who we have here,” Elizabeth said with a rush of relief as she approached. It was easy to feel something akin to joy at the sight of him, despite their last parting. He was a friend who hadn’t left her yet. Stopping just at the end of the wooden dock, she reached down to help tighten the knot before offering a hand. “Captain Jack Sparrow.” 

Jack looked her up and down as she held out a hand, taking it and using it as an anchor to heave himself out of what could only be charitably called a  _ boat _ , not the ships either of them were now used to. “You’re looking good, Lizzie. Royalty agrees with you.”

Elizabeth shook her head as they walked together back toward the bustling village. After the sharp realizations of the morning, it was good to see a familiar face. To know she wasn’t completely alone in the world just yet. 

“Where have you been, Jack? I thought you had gone,” she said, stopping in a more private space away from the docks. Not nearly private enough for what she was used to, but it would do. “First you leave without even a goodbye, then you come back just as quietly.”

“Nothing for you to worry yourself over, Lizzie. What’s done is done,” Jack replied as he walked away toward the village again, leaving Elizabeth alone and wondering just exactly what had happened. 

* * *

When she found him in the tavern a short time later, Elizabeth settled herself in a chair across from Jack, ignoring the seemingly endless celebration of returning friends and family around them. 

“I have a proposition for you, Lizzie. One I think you’ll like.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow as she poured herself another cup of rum. She hadn’t seen Jack since he arrived, the man dodging her every effort to find him and ask further questions about where he had been. What he had been doing in his weeks away. When it was clear he wouldn’t just be out with it right away, she poured him a glass as well. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’s this proposition?”

Instead of an answer, Jack took a swig from his cup before producing what looked like a splintered and broken sheet of bamboo. When she made to unroll it, his hand came to rest on top of hers. He shook his head, which only confused Elizabeth further. 

“Not here, Lizzie. What you’ve got there isn’t for all eyes,” he said, giving the room a glance before moving his hand away. 

“Then why are you showing it to me,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper. As loud as the tavern was, it likely wasn’t necessary, but one could never be too careful. “What is it that you’re so secretive?”

“What do you know about the Fountain of Youth?”

Elizabeth couldn’t help the burst of laughter that emerged at the question, true and clear for the first time in far too long. It was rude, she knew, to laugh at such a good friend for an earnest question, but it sounded so ridiculous that she couldn’t help herself. “The Fountain of Youth? Jack, surely even you must know that’s a myth. A story to send men mad looking for immortality. Or the treasure and riches that likely come with such a prize.”

“I would have thought by now that you would believe more in ghost stories and myths. That your story books were more truth than fiction,” he said, looking almost as offended as he sounded. 

Elizabeth sighed, not changing her mind about the truth or fiction of the stories surrounded the fabled fountain, but in the face of a friend, perhaps her last friend, she couldn’t bring herself to keep disagreeing. “I’m sorry, Jack,” she said, looking down at the small sheet of bamboo again, still rolled up in her lap. “So...this is a map? Instructions of some kind?”

“A map that shows many places, Lizzie. The locker,” he said, shuddering and taking another long drink from his cup before filling it again, “The Fountain of Youth, places that neither you or I understand yet. We could take a ship, find it together.”

“Another adventure then. You, me, our crew, and a ship,” she said, the idea giving her far more pleasure than she expected. It had been far too long since she had left this city, felt the sea breeze, and sailed open waters. But her thoughts were soon brought back to the people surrounding her, those that were under her protection and influence. Despite everything, she couldn’t face the idea of leaving them so soon. “I will consider it, Jack. Give me some time to think.”

* * *

It was only when Elizabeth retired back to her home later that evening that she began to allow herself to think of Jack’s offer. She lit a candle once the door was closed and latched behind her, letting the light lead the way back toward the small bed chamber. The house was modest, barely larger than her father’s study back home in Port Royal, but it was more than adequate for a single person and it was  _ hers _ . 

Sitting on the bed, she placed the candle on the bedside table, looking out the window onto the quiet night. Before it would have been easy to jump into a new adventure, abandoning everything and everyone in search of discovery and independence. Now, however, she had more to think of, perhaps the same as before but now it meant more. These people depended on her, for her insights, her protection from the wider world outside while they were within these rocky walls. 

Now, as she wondered and fretted over this question, the price of freedom and independence over responsibility, she thought of her father. He always put the safety of the people of Port Royal, of friends and neighbors, of... _ family _ first. She wondered now, in the year since his passing, what he would think of her now. Not only a pirate, an enemy of the crown and everything he had sought to protect, but a  _ protector _ herself, of pirates. The king of a pirate colony and leader of many beyond it. 

“How did you always find the right thing to do,” she asked the empty room, closing her eyes and looking toward the sky above. She could imagine her father easily in heaven, welcomed by the Lord above as well as her mother and brother, all who had died far too soon. “How did you always find a way to protect them, keep everyone safe? While keeping your own freedom?” Sighing softly, Elizabeth allowed her head to drop into her hands, knowing that the answers she was seeking would never be found from who she sought them. All those who held the responsibility of others were dead and gone, lost to the sea and time. Now, it was left to her to give it all up and forge her own path or stay and do what she could for the few she had left. 

But what would she do? 

_ Stay the course and protect the people of Shipwreck Cove?  _

_ Or forge her own path again? Truly live the life of a pirate, wild and free forever.  _

Elizabeth laid back on the bed, staring to the sky again as the candle burned beside her. The light flickered, forming in strange and mysterious shapes as her mind tried to form the answer she sought. As she watched the shapes and whisks of smoke, her eyes began to droop from the long day she had, closing just a moment after. 

_ * * * _

The morning came with a startling clarity, much like the bright sunlight that shone through her bedroom window. Perhaps it had been a dream, the sunlight through the walls of her tiny home, or the breeze across her face, but there was only one thing she could do. 

Elizabeth Swann was a pirate, through and through, and her home was the sea. 

It was time to say goodbye. 


	5. Love Springs Eternal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon his return to England, James Norrington has discovered a great many things, one of which is the seemingly sudden engagement of his only sister. Will they come to a head over the arrangements or will Mary receive the blessing she very much wants?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back, friends! 
> 
> I'm so excited to be able to come back to this story that I love so much and be able to share more of it with all of you. Things are better in my personal life now, so I feel much more comfortable in continuing to write. This is the longest chapter yet, so hopefully a very welcome treat! 
> 
> Before any of you ask, yes there are plenty of historical anachronisms in this chapter. Do I care? Not one bit. I have always loved Regency-era romances and with the recent arrival of Bridgerton on Netflix (which I highly recommend), I couldn't resist adding elements to this chapter in particular. So, spare me the commentary on that particular bit of this story. This is my pirate love story! LOL 
> 
> ANYWAY, before I get too ahead of myself, enjoy and please leave commands if you wish and are able!

_Come loose every sail to the breeze._

_The course of my vessel improve;_

_I've done with the toils of the seas,_

_Ye sailors, I'm bound to my love._

Mary hummed the tune as she worked, pulling through each new stitch into the fine fabric. The embroidery had taken months since her fiance had left on yet another voyage to India, a labor of love for the day when she would finally become his wife. She continued to hum the familiar tune of the sea song, bringing to mind images of blue waves and blowing white sails, the feel of the sea wind and spray on skin and the sounds of life all around her. Though her dreams had taken her to the sea as of late, it was the soft sounds from the next room that kept her on dry land. 

“Mother, I do not need assistance. I am able to walk,” a man’s voice said from just inside, just as familiar and dear to Mary’s heart as any other, growing closer by the moment. Putting aside the small piece of fabric, she came to the door and opened it, seeing her brother, standing for the first time in weeks and looking far too frustrated with all the fuss he was surrounded by. Every instinct told her to approach and add to the fussing, especially now that he was awake and coherent enough to take it, but his tone and manner said to keep her distance. 

“James, I am your mother. I have fussed and worried over you every day of your life,” their mother, Charlotte, said as she took a step back to look at him. “Do indulge me, will you not?”

Mary stood to approach as well after a few moments, leaving her needlework behind on the small table she had left behind. Though she had promised herself that she wouldn’t fuss, not quite yet, it didn’t mean that she couldn’t allow herself a good look. First and foremost, James was... _James._ Her elder brother, her only sibling still living, and her dearest friend. Even with everything else that seemed to have changed about him, underneath it all, he was still her brother and there was nothing she could ever be more grateful for, apart from perhaps the safe return of her fiance, for his safe return home as well as to health. 

The sound of a quiet chuckle broke Mary out of her reverie, bringing her focus back to the present and James smiling at her in the same indulgent way he always had. The expression was one that she also desperately missed, for his manner and very being since returning home had been one of...sadness, perhaps even regret. It made her wonder what he had experienced, what heartbreak had come before the grievous injury at sea. 

“I see you’ve taken up Mother’s manner of fussing, the intense stare,” he said, making Mary approach and kiss his cheek gently. “I suppose it isn’t surprising. You are...all grown up. How old are you now? 25? 30?” 

Mary shook her head, covering her mouth to hold back the giggles. “I’m eighteen, brother,” she said, coming closer to take his hands. “In fact, we celebrated my birthday together recently, though you weren’t awake to experience it. Trust that your presence was the greatest gift I could have ever received. As is this.” 

“Well, I believe I owe you more than a birthday spent at my bedside,” James said, taking Mary’s hand when they were abandoned by their mother and the doctor, leaving Mary to subtly but helpfully offer support if it was needed. 

“Might I bother you with a short walk then? You’ve been away and then recovering so long, I feel the need to demand a bit of your attention.”

“I doubt I could walk far, my endurance is still not at its best, but I would be a quite worthless man and brother to deny you,” he replied, moving his hand up to take Mary’s arm and holding onto it a bit tighter than he liked, judging by the blink and you’d miss it look of frustration on his face. For Mary knew quite well, perhaps better than anyone except his former fiancée, that James Norrington was a man of action just as much as he was a man of words. That his strength had been stolen from him, even if his life was preserved in the process, was a theft that he could and would not abide.

“To the drawing-room then, dear brother. Surely even that is a nice change of scenery,” she replied, the two walking slowly down the hall. Once they reached the small, but cheerful room, Mary led James to the chair nearest the window, opening it to let a bit more morning sunlight and whatever breeze that passed by through. “There, a bit more light and fresh air. Better than that stuffy old bedroom.”

Once the tea was made, steaming water over strong leaves from far away Indian shores, Mary finally took her seat in the small plush chair across from her brother. It was easier now to see him, not on death’s door or on a slow path to recovery but…more himself, at least the man she remembered him as in her youth. Reaching across the small table that housed their tea set and plate of treats that had been acquired, she placed her hand on top of James’, holding it for a brief moment before pulling away, looking down at her tea. 

“So, the last letter I remember…you were leaning to visit Uncle in London, for the season,” James finally said after a long, but comfortable silence. “Though I hate to think that you are now old enough to play the role of a debutante, I’m sure you have quite a few stories.”

Mary shook her head, very aware of the engagement ring she wore on the chain around her neck. A promise to the man she loved that it would be close to her heart, but not on her finger until he returned to her. “No, no. You won’t get out of telling your own stories _that_ easily. Mine are the same as any other girl my age, I’m sure. Not many can have so many adventures at sea to talk about. There must have been...so many things you saw, experienced,” she said, voice fading off a bit as if to give him an opening. 

James sighed, holding the small, delicate teacup in his hands as he tried to find the words to say. He couldn’t tell his sister all of what he had experienced in the past few years, especially what he hoped they would never know about...losing his ship, his crew, his _life_ as he knew it. He could already imagine the disappointment on her face if she or their mother ever found out, the image seared into his mind alongside the last sight of Elizabeth before she disappeared back to her ship, to the life he was never meant for. “I’m not sure what you want to know, Mary… Hardly any of it is appropriate for polite conversation, especially with a lady.” 

That comment earned a roll of the eyes before a sharp look that reminded James far too much of their father, thankfully that being one of the few traits she had inherited from the man. “I am hardly the _lady_ you speak of, James. I am your sister. Surely there is some adventure, some incredible battle or journey that you could speak of, please? Your letters hardly ever said anything exciting.” 

“You sound just like Elizabeth,” he replied without thinking, his hand stilling on the teapot when he realized what he had said, the knife that always seemed to pierce his heart when he thought of her twisting, leaving behind the searing pain of regret. 

“I wrote to her, once we knew you would survive,” Mary said, bracing herself for his questions or even anger if it came. “I’m sorry if it upsets you, but I told her that you were alive. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her in pain.”

“I couldn’t do it either,” James sighed, looking out the window. “The last thing I ever want for her is to be unhappy, but it’s over Mary. She’s likely married the blacksmith by now. There’s nothing I can do to change it.” 

Standing, Mary came to kneel in front of him, letting her hand cup his cheek. “You truly loved her, didn’t you?”

“I did, yes. It is as I said, she is gone,” he replied simply, leaving no room for argument. “It’s time to move on.”

Something felt so wrong with that, as if it wasn’t true, even if James wanted desperately to make himself believe it. She thought back to the letter from Elizabeth, the words and the seeming eternal sadness that flowed from them. Was that a woman who would marry someone else? Or was it someone who was filled with regret? Wondering what might have been? No, there was something here that not all could see and Mary knew and would find out what it was before the end. 

When the silence finally broke again, with Mary finding her seat and filling both their empty cups with tea, the shadow and darkness that had fallen over his eyes faded, leaving only the same placid calm that seemed eternally present. 

“Now, we’ve talked about me. It’s time to talk about you,” he said, all pleasantness and teasing. “Now Mother hasn’t said a word since I’ve been home except to fuss, so I must rely on you for any stories that may be... _interesting._ ”

“Well, I suppose I do have a bit of news to share,” she replied, her hand unconsciously coming up to rest on her chest, where the ring, the sign of her commitment and love, sat waiting to be placed on her finger. “I am to be married, James. I’m not sure when, he is away on business for a time, but the proposal has been made, and I accepted.” 

After a long silence, one which made Mary more and more nervous by the second, she finally allowed herself to speak when it was too overwhelming to bear. “Brother,” she asked, putting her teacup down before she broke it in her shaking hands. “Please say something.” 

Her words seemed to break a spell that had entranced James, pulling him from his reverie. She wondered where his thoughts had traveled to, if they were pulled across the sea back to Port Royal or perhaps somewhere a bit closer to home. By the time he spoke, however, all evidence again was gone from his face. “Congratulations, Mary. I must say, I am quite surprised. Mother certainly never said anything of this.” 

Mary bit her lip for a moment before letting it go, bringing her hands closer together so they wouldn’t visibly shake anymore than they were before. It was still unclear what he thought of the situation, beyond the appropriate sentiment of congratulating her. Did he mean it? Was he upset, angry at not being included in the process of her finding an appropriate spouse? 

“Yes, I expect Mother wouldn’t mention it. She was...I..,” Mary stammered, trying to explain herself in a way that he would understand, “I believe Mother only wanted me to find a match, one that would be...better. Someone who would love me. Be at my side always, not out at sea for months or years at a time.”

“It seems as though Mother wasn’t as instrumental in the match as the usual,” James replied, shaking his head. He understood quite well the effect a good match would have for a woman. Their father’s example certainly didn’t lend to seeking a match for comfort alone. _Love_ was what she would want for Mary, for them both, if he was honest. “I assume it was Uncle then?”

“He did introduce us, yes,” she said, finding a small bit of comfort and relief when he didn’t seem _angry_ at his lack of input in her affairs, as the elder brother and man of the family usually did. Her thoughts went back to that fateful night, the memory as clear as it was mere moments before… 

_Mary watched as the countless couples made their way around the dancefloor, their careful steps as measured and graceful as each breath, touch, and glance. Though she had only arrived in London a few days before, the latest of a long line of ladies seeking the hand of a titled or otherwise eligible gentleman, it seemed she was being thrown immediately to the wolves, all in the name of one thing: finding a suitable partner with which to spend the rest of her life._

_It was just when Mary thought she would die of boredom, if one could ever be bored with an evening such as this, with the candlelight making the room shimmer from the beautiful gowns of every eligible young lady in the room dancing with handsome gentlemen while observed by their chattering mothers and fathers, it seemed that someone caught the eye of her dear Uncle and chaperone, sending him along like a dog on the hunt. Not on the hunt for a duck or pheasant, mind you, but a suitable match. One that would see Mary living in comfort and ease for the rest of her days._

_“Ah, yes,” he said, straightening his cravat before turning to Mary, finding her perfectly beautiful. Not a hair out of place. “Come, my dear. There is someone I would very much like you to meet.”_

_As they approached, Mary felt the watchful eye of every other marriage-minded woman and suitable bachelor follow. The man in question though was quite a sight himself, tall, nearly as tall as her father and elder brother had been, and quite dashing in his perfectly tailored suit, with his golden hair perfectly swept back from his eyes._

_“Andrew, may I present my niece, Miss Mary Norrington,” her uncle said as Mary dropped into an elegant curtsey, her head bowed toward the floor for a moment before rising to look him in the eye. “Mary, this is Andrew Lewis. His late father and I were good friends.”_

_“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir,” she said, smiling and feeling butterflies fill her stomach when he smiled. Oh dear, what a smile he had. And his eyes, like twin sparkling sapphires in the candlelight. Yes, he was certainly quite a sight indeed._

_“I assure you, the pleasure is mine,” he replied, bringing her lifted hand to his lips to kiss gently. “May I have the honor of a dance this evening?”_

_“Yes, I would like that very much.”_

  
  


The memory faded as quickly as it had appeared, bringing Mary back to reality, to her dearest brother sitting across the small table. “I assure you, it was all in hand. I would have loved your presence here, far more than Father’s, but Andrew is a good man. He appreciates me, he knows me for who I am, and he is a dear friend. I doubt I could ask for more in a match.” 

“If you speak so highly of him, he is surely not a man only set to inherit a large fortune. I’ve seen you turn down enough boys for a lifetime with titles and grand estates. Even if in not so overt ways,” he said, which shocked a laugh out of Mary. It seemed as though he had read far more truth in their letters over the years that she realized and remembered her as a young girl far better as well. “What is his profession? Or have you changed that much in these last few years?” 

“I suppose he _did_ inherit, but instead of a fancy title or some grand home somewhere, it was a family business. He’s a merchant, importing tea and spices from India,” she replied, finally drinking her tea which she found had since gone cold. “He’s on a voyage there now actually, which is one reason why we’ve delayed the wedding.”

“Sailing of the flag of the East India Company, no doubt,” came the reply, followed by a snort of derision that was so unlike the man she knew that it left Mary shocked. 

After a few blinks, Mary found herself able to think and speak again, the reply coming forth before she realized. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I know exactly the kind of man that you’ve found yourself attached to. One Mother never should have allowed you near,” he replied, slowly standing to find a piece of parchment. “Or perhaps Uncle is more to blame for this.”

If there was a statement that could confuse and infuriate Mary more, she didn’t believe James could find it. Her arms crossed over her chest, an unladylike gesture that she didn’t quite care about at the present. Her only focus was the man in front of her, speaking in a manner that she never expected but perhaps should have. It seemed, underneath everything else, her brother still was a _man_. Which meant he said the most ridiculous things from time to time, to the chagrin of the more sensible around him, of which he was usually a part. 

“Now, perhaps you have forgotten, but there are only two people whose opinions truly matter in this arrangement, Andrew’s and my own. What is your problem with a man you have never even met?”

“I have known far too many men like him. Arrogant, power-hungry, completely uncaring about others,” he replied, listing each fault one by one. “Not to mention manipulative.”

Mary stood, the anger and hurt clear on her face. How dare he assume anything about Andrew when she didn’t know him? When he had spent the last ten years at sea, hardly bothering to return home at all? “Just when I thought you couldn’t come up with a more incorrect statement, you have,” she said, her disbelief evident. “You may believe you know more of the world, more of the ways of people and you may, but I assure you that you do not know Andrew. He is a good man, decent and kind, unlike all of the other qualities you wish to ascribe to him. I will not allow you to slander his character so completely without a chance of discussion of defense.”

She took a second to breathe, one single moment of silence before she said something that she would truly regret. When the moment ended, her mind was made up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I will take my leave. Please feel free to find me when you wish to apologize.”

***

_A small cough came from the door as Mary plinked the keys of the piano, playing a tune that only existed in her mind and nowhere else. It had been a quiet morning thus far, in a way that she found peaceful, but the peace was soon to be broken – in a way that none present would at all reject._

_“A caller for Miss Mary, sir,” the butler, who had made the cough from the doorway, said, bowing his head to her. “A Mr. Andrew Lewis.”_

_Mary stood, letting out a shaky breath and smoothing the skirt of her gown, beautiful blue silk that made her feel like a true princess. Her honey brown hair had been done that morning in an elaborate braid by her new aunt, who had welcomed her into their home for the season with all the cheer and genuine love that she had not expected from a woman she barely knew. It seemed to her that family truly was enough for love._

_It was only moments later when the man in question entered the room, removing his hat as soon as the door closed behind him, holding it in one hand while a bouquet of beautiful flowers was held in the other. From the expression on his face, he was as nervous as she, which eased Mary’s worries quite considerably. For if he were filled with arrogance and bravado, it would give an altogether different impression indeed._

_“Sir, Madam,” he said, addressing her uncle and aunt in turn before turning to Mary, bowing deeply before rising to catch her eye. “Miss Norrington.”_

_Mary fell into her curtsey, smiling with pleasure as he rose, enjoying the sound of her name on his lips. “Good morning, Mr. Lewis. It is a pleasure to see you again.”_

_“I must say again, indeed the pleasure is all mine,” he replied, coming forward and kissing her hand gently before presenting one of what she discovered were a pair of flower bouquets to her, the other soon given to her aunt with a kind greeting._

_Soon they were sitting on the chaise together, close but not nearly close enough for Mary’s taste, but the company sitting just across from them didn’t allow for anything else. Each tried to say something many times before stopping as if they were afraid that it would be the comment that would bring the entire morning crashing down around them._

_“Was the lovely music I heard when I entered an original composition,” he finally asked, breaking the silence. “I know not much about the pianoforte, most certainly nothing about playing it, but the tune was…magical.”_

_Mary smiled, trying very hard not to blush at the compliment coming so earnestly. “It is, yes, but I must say I do not yet have the skill to put to page or reality the music I can imagine in my mind. Perhaps I never will, but…I hope one day to try.”_

_Andrew took her hand again, holding it in both of his own. “I have always marveled at the sheer variety of accomplishments that ladies can acquire. Sewing, embroidering, playing, and singing… Not to mention exceptional intelligence,” he said, looking at Mary as if she were a truly wonderous creature. “I daresay there are only a handful of men who could even begin to find themselves so well…”_

_“Accomplished,” Mary finished, watching him struggle for his words so adorably._

_Andrew blushed, smiling back. “Precisely.”_

  
  


***

_Dearest Andrew,_

_It has been five days since I received your last letter and I have been remiss to attempt a reply, for the house has been quite a hive of activity in recent days. I offer my sincerest apologies with assurances that all is well, for the chaos was of the best sort. After countless letters unable to offer news on the condition of my most beloved brother, I can now share the happy news that he is well on the road to recovery. By the grace of God, he has been returned to us, awake and coherent if not quite a bit grumpy at all the fuss Mother has been showering him with._

Mary paused, the quill staying still in her hand as she deliberated her next words carefully. The argument with James was still in the forefront of her mind, his words slicing into her heart like the tiny daggers he likely meant to be. What would she tell Andrew of her brother’s seemingly unmovable opinion of him?

“I don’t understand, James. What happened out there,” she asked herself, putting aside the quill before it could drop ink onto the page. She couldn’t imagine the horrors that her brother must have faced out on the open sea, the people and places he saw that changed him – or perhaps made him more of the man she saw just an hour before. “Have you never trusted me?”

Taking a breath and shaking the thought from her head, she picked up the quill again and returned to the letter, deciding to not confide her worries and concerns in Andrew. At least not yet. 

  
  


_There is much I wish I could tell you of the events of home and the summer season here in England, and perhaps now that things have settled a bit I will have that pleasure in future letters. Now, however, I must admit my thoughts have been focused on things now past, whenever they are not of you. I miss you dearly, morning and night and I wish you safety and prosperity, in the hope that you will soon be returned to me. You have a place in my heart that no one else could ever have, nor would I ever allow another to come close to it._

_I wait and hope for the day when we are one, my darling._

_Eternally yours,_

_Mary_

***

_“Mary, I find there is something I wish to speak to you about,” Andrew said as they walked through her aunt’s garden, the roses and gardenias in full bloom around them. It was a beautiful July evening, warm and fragrant, but none of that was nearly as essential to the experience as the man walking with her. He held her hand close, tight as those she would disappear if he let go of her. “I hope that you will listen for just a moment so I can get this out.”_

_Mary nodded, not daring to reply until he was finished with whatever he had to tell her. Surely, she thought, it was about the upcoming trip back to India that her uncle had mentioned over breakfast that morning, which he may have thought would disappoint her. It was an inevitability in her eyes that he would leave her again, his affairs not only being in London but abroad as well. Perhaps, if that was the issue, she would be able to reassure him somehow._

_“I am sure that you have been made aware by now, for your Uncle is to be my companion, that I am soon to return to India. Some matters require my attention and can be delayed no longer. I am very much disappointed by this development, but not for a reason that I have ever experienced before,” he said, stopping for a moment after taking an extra step, looking back at her. “I find myself… I do not want to leave you behind. Not without a promise.”_

_“Andrew, I understand you have to leave. I do not blame you for it,” she said, coming closer to rest a hand on his cheek gently. “You have your duty and I have mine.”_

_“I only wish my duty didn’t take me so far from you,” he replied, taking the hand on his cheek and turning to kiss her palm. He soon kissed it once more before wrapping her hand in both of his own, letting his thumb rub over her fingers before resting just for a moment on her ring finger, leading her to the bench underneath a large birch tree._

_“There is something I would like to ask you… I’ve thought about how for some time, but now I know that I cannot wait any longer. It’s now or never,” he said, taking one last breath before continuing. “These last few months I’ve spent with you have been some of the happiest I believe I’ve ever experienced. I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know you, as more than the niece of a good friend. You are an accomplished and beautiful woman, a good friend, and…the partner I cannot imagine living the rest of my life without.”_

_“Andrew,” Mary whispered as he dropped down on one knee in front of her, still holding her hand tight in his own._

_“Mary Elizabeth Norrington, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”_

_“Yes.”_

***

Mary sighed as the memory faded, her fingers toying with the ring around her neck, the very one Andrew had given her that magical night. She had sworn to him, as well as herself, that this ring — her most precious and prized possession — would not be placed exactly where it belonged until he returned to put it back on her finger. Until then, both the memories of her love and the symbol of it would stay near her heart, as they always were. 

Once the letter was signed and addressed, she opened the drawer of her writing desk to find the wax and seal, a piece of parchment fluttering across her sight before falling gently to the floor. It was only a moment before she retrieved the small note, horror replacing everything else as the simple discovery.

Her letter to Elizabeth had never reached her at all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned on this space... 
> 
> *hands out tissues*


End file.
